Good morning, it's five o'clock, this is your wake up call.
I did not order a wake up call! I hardly slept…
Well get going, you said you were stuck as to what to pack.
I am. I cannot decide. It’s cold and hot at once, I need different things for hiking, for working, for biking, for beaching, for riding the iron rooster. Late last night, I stared at my closet for one hour then, disgusted, fell asleep.
Me, I had no problem..
You’re only going for two weeks, I’m going for two months!
…I took out all the shirts that didn’t have holes, as you don’t like holes, and stuffed them along with clean underwear, into a duffle bag…
So starts my trip. The bus leaves in two hours and I am stuck on what to pack. Moreover, the post office and I are in dispute. They only hold mail for thirty days. What’s the matter with people, doesn’t anyone take off for two months anymore? I do not understand Americans.
In the meantime, Ed, my singularly original travel companion is calling again.
My asparagus is up!
Great. Jeans or chinos, jeans or chinos…
You have to try some before you leave.
It is 9 in the morning, the bus leaves in two hours and I am not asparagus inclined. But take a New York boy and place him on a (mini) farm and he gets, well, excited when things come up.
So if I miss the bus it is because I am steaming asparagus and steaming at the post office and wondering what to pack. God, what a sunny day.